Related to a Victor by Blood and Marriage
by WizMonCruWil
Summary: "Darius and I lean out of our hug. Then, quite suddenly, Darius is tilting my head back in his strong, calloused hands. Holding his eyes, without even thinking about it, my arms go about his neck, my fingers tangled in his hair. Our lips meet, as Darius closes the gap and presses his mouth fiercely, violently to mine." More Mrs. E and Darius love, with a bit of Everlark! Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1: New Year's Eve Cricks

**Chapter 1: New Year's Eve Cricks**

I didn't want to attend the New Year's Eve party in the Hob. Katniss didn't either, but Primrose insisted. So I dug out an old burgundy dress from my Merchant dress that showed off way too much cleavage and helped Katniss dress in her blue Reaping frock. We followed Prim to the black market.

Right away, a man in a plated Peacekeeper's uniform came over to say Hello. Katniss greeted him in a way that said she knew him. I didn't take my eldest daughter to be an extrovert.

"Mother, this is Deputy Head Peacekeeper Darius Freeman." The man turns to face me and my mouth goes oddly dry.

He is _gorgeous_, with red hair flowing down past his shoulders, a bulging and muscular chest, and a chiseled jawline. Most striking are his piercing sea-green eyes and dazzling smile.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Everdeen. Your daughter tells me you are a Healer? I have a condition that might need some treatment."

I feel heat bloom on my neck. "I'd be happy to help, if I can."

"Excellent! It's from a back injury I sustained while at the Academy..."

Darius and I get lost in conversation as the night wears on, and as midnight nears. Katniss is talking with Peeta Mellark, the Baker's son and a Merchant acquaintance of hers. Primrose is dancing with Rory Hawthorne. Glancing to the clock, I find myself wondering: _It's a tradition to kiss when the clock strikes midnight. Could I...? Would he...?_

But when I work up the nerve to ask Darius if he has anyone to kiss at midnight, he has already moved away, to converse with my eldest daughter. Soon, the drunken countdown begins:

"10... 9... 8..."

Darius suddenly takes Katniss in his arms. "Brace yourself, Ms. Everdeen." And he kisses a shocked Katniss full on the mouth.

There is a sudden blur as a blond man runs past me. "Brace yourself, Peacekeeper Freeman!" Hauling, a clearly jealous Peeta Mellark punches Darius in the face and sends him sprawling. Sweeping Katniss into a dip, Peeta kisses her thoroughly. I stare at the scene in disbelief. Thrown against the bar, Darius is struggling to get up, but then winces.

"Ah! Oh! My back!"

* * *

It is the following morning that finds me straddling Darius across his back while he lies on our kitchen table. I turn to my chiropractic skills to correct the cricks in his back sustained from his injury. Blushing furiously at the compromising position I find myself, and that I have never noticed before with my other patients, I desperately try to turn my thoughts to less arousing matters.

I would imagine it is illegal to assault a Peacekeeper, never mind the Deputy Head. But Darius does not seem to want to press charges against the Mellark boy. I don't know about Katniss's feelings over the incident. She staggered home last night in an affronted yet dazed stupor, occasionally touching her fingers to her very kissed lips.

"So, Darius... were you born in the Capitol?" I attempt to make conversation.

"I'm from Four, originally. I was conscripted into the Academy in Two after being successful in testing. The rest of my siblings enlisted in the Career camp."

I press into his spine, arching an intrigued eyebrow. "Any of them win?"

I can see him blushing. "They strip you of your identity when you enter Training, so I'm not supposed to know, but my older brother may have won the Games."

The only male Victor from Four that I can think of is Finnick Odair. Studying Darius closer, I must admit... I can see the resemblance.

Darius now turns the questioning back to me. "You have raised beautiful daughters. I must apologize for kissing your eldest so audaciously last night."

I shrug. "Katniss tells me you're a flirt who's been asking for a kiss from her since she was a teen. Frankly, she needs a good kiss. She's anti-social... I worry about her sometimes."

"And does your husband?"

My eyes cast down. "I'm a widow. He passed away in a mining accident when my girls were little."

"I'm sorry for your loss." Darius sighs under my hands. "Ms. Everdeen, you have the touch of a miracle worker."

I blush rouge. "Call me Belle."

"OK... Belle."


	2. Chapter 2: Games Kisses

**Chapter 2: Games Kisses**

**Katniss's POV**

I hurry from the Hob after making my trades. Only one last delivery to go. I don't know why Mother made me put on my blue Reaping dress to go hunting, even if today is Reaping Day. But it didn't get dirty, and I am late as it is to return home and walk my mother and sister down to the Justice Building square.

Entering the alley and climbing onto the back loading dock of the Bakery. I knock at the door, hoping it isn't the Witch - the Baker's wife who is deeply prejudiced against all Seam. I hope it is the Baker who answers, because the remaining alternative...

... is the one who opens the door. I freeze as Peeta Mellark's impossibly blue eyes bore into me. I have only seen him sporadically since the wild kiss he forced on me at the Hob's New Year's Eve party. The kiss I have not been able to banish from my mind. Between the two men who kissed me that night, I can only admit in my head... Peeta was the better kisser. Hands down.

"Hey, Katniss."

I avert my gaze. "Hey." I hold up the squirrels by the tail. He whistles.

"Right in the eye, every time." Heat oddly blooms on my neck at the praise. A pause and then: "Your dress is pretty."

My face only grows warmer. "Thank you," I whisper stiffly. Another awkward silence where we glance at each other and just as quickly look away.

"Have you stolen a Reaping Kiss yet?"

I freeze. If I say No, would he try and force himself on me? Not likely - it's not in his character. With his lips pressed against mine that night, I could smell the alcohol on his breath. Not only was he clearly jealous over Darius kissing me, he was drunk too. Finally, I get out, "No. I don't believe in that stuff." The Reaping Kiss is both a tradition and superstition in District 12. Supposedly, if you share a kiss with someone before the Reaping, neither one of you will be picked. I have never participated, though I have no reason to believe it doesn't work.

"Oh," Peeta says. He looks like he wants to ask me something (would he really ask to kiss me?) but thinks better of it. "Well... good luck."

"You too," I croak out. The door slams shut and I turn to trudge out of the alley and for home.

I don't make it five steps before I am back on the loading dock and rapping on the door again. Thankfully, Peeta answers it.

"Did you forget some-?"

I don't let him finish. Throwing my arms around him, shutting my eyes tightly, I tug him close and kiss him passionately on the lips. I am an atrocious kisser, but Peeta quickly parts my mouth with his and licks his way in, so that our tongues squirm and dance. Peeta moans and holds me close. I groan pathetically with him as spinning us around, Peeta lifts me off my feet and slams us into the wall. Our hands rummage along each other's skin, touching everywhere. Peeta greedily grabs fistfuls of my bum, squeezing and cupping the curvy, accentuated flesh of each cheek. Groping me through my clothes the way he is, I would normally knee him in the groin, for taking such liberties with me. I swing my leg high instead, raising it to hook around his waist and locking our pelvises together. I push my boobs into his chest.

After several seconds of full-bore making out, Peeta and I snap apart, my breath coming in rough gasps with every heave of my pebbled breasts.

"Thank you," I breathe out. Then, disentangling myself from the embrace, I run for home.

* * *

**Belle's POV**

According to Prim, she had heard rumors that her sister and the youngest Mellark boy shared a Reaping Kiss just before the ceremony. The superstition is supposed to work, I am told.

So why were they both picked as tributes?

Perhaps the point will be rendered moot, for my eldest daughter and her District partner are two of the only three tributes left alive. The trio are fighting in a fierce final battle on top of the Cornucopia, as the rest of us in Twelve watch from a Jumbotron screen in the District square. It is deep night, and we likely will not go to bed until a Victor emerges. Not since Haymitch Abernathy triumphed close to twenty five years ago has a Victor been so nearly in our grasp.

As the mother of one of the tributes, I have been terribly on edge. Darius has been a godsend, standing with me and Primrose near the front throughout the entire ordeal. He squeezes my hand now, and giving him a strained grimace of a grin, I squeeze back.

Cato, the Career from Two, falls to his death with a yell. Katniss and Peeta are told one must kill the other, but instead they threaten suicide by attempting to eat poisonous berries. The Gamemakers are forced to adhere to their original rule change allowing two Victors to live and the square in Twelve explodes in cheers. Darius and I hug, as the Peacekeepers set off the celebrations; with a piercing shriek, fireworks whizz and explode in the nighttime sky above District 12.

Darius and I lean out of our hug. Then, quite suddenly, Darius is tilting my head back in his strong, calloused hands. Holding his eyes, without even thinking about it, my arms go about his neck, my fingers tangled in his hair. Our lips meet, as Darius closes the gap and presses his mouth fiercely, violently to mine. "Mmmmhhmmmmm..." I moan happily, my eyes fluttering closed. The sound parts my lips for him and our tongues find each other eagerly. Darius's one paw of a hand glides to my waist and then dips lower to cup the curved flesh of my arse cheek as he pulls me closer. The other floats from my face and neck to grope my breast and give it a loving squeeze, which makes me shiver and hold him tighter. And as Darius and I embrace and kiss, the fireworks explode and the cheers echo. I hardly notice that my youngest is probably watching us in open-mouthed shock, or care if others take in the strange sight as well - of a poor Seam woman and a Peacekeeper officer (supposedly the enemy) openly kissing, wrapped in a close embrace. I just relax and enjoy the kiss.


	3. Chapter 3: A New Life

**Chapter 3: A New Life**

After the 75th Hunger Games the next year (which my eldest girl and Peeta again survive) and the explosive war against the Capitol that follows, I move as a refugee to District 4. I lost track of Darius when he departed for the Capitol to act as security for the Quell, and I only hope that he has survived. The Justice Building here grants me a house, down by the sea and the fishing docks.

One morning, as I go to bring medicine and food to the returning fisherman, I spy a familiar head of red hair and sea-green eyes disembarking from a schooner. Seeing me, he stops short with a broadening smile. "Belle...?"

"Darius?!" Laughing, I run into his arms, where he picks me up and spins me around. And when he sets me down, we share a chaste peck on the lips, as if we have never been separated.

"I heard about Primrose," he tells me sadly. "I'm sorry for your loss. Is Katniss well?"

"In 12, with Peeta. They'll be married in the fall." I wonder if I will be invited to the wedding. I hope to be, though Katniss has closed her traumatized self off to most people.

"Did you just arrive?" Darius asks, taking my hand as we walk.

"Yup."

"Well, I have some awful war injuries that need to be taken care of. Move in with me?"

Biting back a smile, I nod.

I move in with Darius into his little cottage by the sea. He takes to the waters by day, bringing back his catches for us to eat before I go to work massaging his back each night, straddled across him as he lies on... our bed.

One evening, as I work out the cricks in Darius's lower back, he flips over so I am straddling his middle in a very... sexual manner. My face flushes.

"Hi," I whisper.

Darius's sea-green eyes are smoldering. "Hi."

We kiss briefly. Or, more accurately, I kiss him, bending my face close to his. We break apart for only a moment, before Darius draws me close and captures his lips in mine in a deeper kiss. I groan happily, as his arms encircle me tightly, before I twist away with little tantalizing pecks so I can cast my nightgown off and over my head with a flourish. Darius's strong hands splay across my shoulders and bare back as we begin to undulate against each other.

All night long, the sounds of our lovemaking can be heard.

"Mmmm... Huhhhh... Uhhhhh! Uhhhh..."

* * *

Darius Freeman Odair and I eventually marry in an intimate ceremony on the beach. Over a campfire, we Toast a bit of bread and share it, as is the custom back in my District 12 homeland. Sealing our marriage with a kiss, I circle my husband in my bridal gown in District 4 tradition as our friends sing a seafaring marriage song:

_"I tell you a tale of men in black coats and it's hail to the starboard, heave ho! You'll cart off your bride in a flat bottomed boat through mysterious fathoms below..."_

Darius and I have wild sex every night for weeks after our wedding. I don't mind that Darius is only 22, nearly half my age. I love him so much! Though unable to make the nuptials, Katniss sends me a beautiful letter conveying her blessing.

Not long after, I fall pregnant and following nine months and seventeen hours of labor, I give birth to a son. I name him Finnick Everdeen Odair, after his late Victor uncle. That is when I realize that I am related to a Victor by blood and two other Victors (Peeta and Finnick) by marriage.

Darius makes his trade as a fisherman, and when he comes home from sea safely every night, I run into his arms and kiss him thoroughly in front of our young son.

* * *

"5!... 4!... 3!... 2!... 1! Happy New Year!"

At the District 4 New Year's Eve Party, I get to openly kiss my husband when the clock strikes midnight. Breaking the kiss after several moments, Darius gives me a winning smile. I smile back weakly before becoming more galling in how indecently I yank him close and kiss him again. But I am too much in love to care.

I am a wife again. I am a mother again. And most importantly... I am happy again.


End file.
